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“Mr. Steadhill?”

“Two hundred sixty. But it wasn’t our fault. The sabotage went wrong! It was a mistake—”

“Yes,” Rien said. “A mistake. There seem to be lots of mistakes around here.”

He stepped back and walked around to the foot of the operating table.

“Let me tell you one other mistake you made, Mr. Steadhill. You didn’t tell anyone in your life that you were going into the witness protection program, did you? No, of course you didn’t. That’s part of the witness protection program.”

Gary’s teeth chattered more. Pus leaked from below his reddened eye.

“And the United States of America, in their generosity, decided to give you a new life in another country. They told you to come to me for a new face, and then you would fly to Brazil for a new life. Is that right? They told you everything would be taken care of, didn’t they?”

A chill swept over my body as I realized what Rien was saying. He glanced over my way as though he could read my thoughts.

“Unfortunately for you and your wife, Mr. Steadhill, the U.S. government doesn’t really care that much for corporate saboteurs, especially those who get innocent citizens killed.”

“We gave them information,” Gary said. “They said—”

“They said whatever they needed to say to get you here. Sorry to tell you that your car won’t be coming back for you this evening. The United States has washed its hands of you, Mr. Steadhill. They have sent you on a snipe hunt. There are no plane tickets to Brazil. There is no new identity for you or your wife.”

“But—but—”

“There’s only me. Understand that? And now… you’re mine.”

CHAPTER NINE

Rien

It was time to start carving up this couple. And with nobody else on my schedule, I could take my time and enjoy it.

Mrs. Steadhill was screaming behind her gag, her body twisting against the straps. I would definitely have to tie her neck down or risk being sloppy. But first I’d deal with her husband.

I picked up the cotton to stuff it in Mr. Steadhill’s mouth again.

“Wait! She isn’t my wife,” he said, rasping air.

I paused. The nagging feeling that I had gotten when the couple walked in was back. I had assumed that she had been lying, but a worry itched at my mind.

“She’s an actress,” he continued. “She—”

I stuffed the gag in his mouth. He choked as I taped it back up, shrieking as the tape touched his musculature on the exposed part of his face.

“An actress?”

I looked over at the woman. She nodded frantically, her eyes wide.

“I can tell you want to talk,” I said. “But I’ve found that when I let people talk to me, they lie. Are you going to lie?”

She shook her head. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. A twist of unease made its way into my stomach as I looked at her. If she really was innocent, I couldn’t kill her. But I couldn’t let her go. She was a witness.

Ifshe was innocent, that is.

“Then we’ll talk,” I said, deciding quickly. “In another room. I don’t trust the two of you together.”

I went over to the medical cabinet and pulled out another hypodermic, then brought it over to the woman. She looked at the needle with terror in her eyes and looked away as I injected her.

“You are scared of needles, aren’t you?”

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